These Loss Elegy poems are examples of Elegy poems about Loss. These are the best examples of Loss Elegy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
The function of a human hand?
Writing a message, making a bed,
Opening a jar, dialing a phone,
Putting on pantyhose,
Touching the face of a child,
Or a lover.
And in its absence?
Yawning space and phantom pain,
And an oddly-shaped bandage
At the end of Angie’s arm.
PFC Hernandez, home in El Paso,
Watches her family watching her,
Writing awkwardly with her left hand,
Brushing her black wavy hair,
Watching Dr. Phil
Wearing an old gray-green T-shirt
Bearing the faded words
“Proud to be a Marine.”
Gasping and choking,
She wakes from thick, dusty dreams
Of shimmering, endless sand,
Echoing hollow with hatred,
And the feared but half expected
Roar of fiery amber heat,
Breaking the angry stillness,
Searing through the night
And Angela’s right hand.
Chill breath of autumn
Sears the poppy scarlet red,
On his memory'd cenotaph.
Tears trickle in the furrowed
Faces of young comrades
.....now long dead
I remember the day I got the call.
My world fell apart.
I had lost it all.
I remember the day you were taken from me.
I knew your beautifull smile I would never again see.
They said it was a mugger and you put up a fight.
I should not have let you go out that night.
It seems like just yesterday we fed eachother our wedding cake.
When I remember that memory my hands start to shake.
I sit in my cabin on this mountain with the sky so blue.
I won't leave. This's where I spent my honeymoon with you.
My family wants me to go back into that world, so cold.
I'm not leaving this mountain.
It's where I'll grow old.
They say your gone and will never again be.
Well, I hear what your saying. Yes, I know your talking to me.
You sit in the chair and drink my tea.
My heart swells up when you smile at me.
They say I've gone insane and see things that aren't there.
If I'm on this mountain here why should they care?
I love you more then I did when we first found this place.
I remeber everything about you, your ellagince and grace.
Why am I not in that world full of anger and fear?
I want to be with you on this mountain here.
Your house huddled under low mauve December dusk.
Negotiating the five ice-glazed steps, cautiously quiet,
silently twisting the key in the lock,
stealthy as a thief at midnight.
Invading your personal domain,
helpless secret-stealer, what other could I do?
A cold dissolution hung in the air;
a dead dust-light on once familiar belongings.
Switched to auto, my lonely hands
sorted a secret stair-cupboard stash:
lavender Spode and swirling Cloisonne.
Your must-speckled books had opened like orchids
but your ghost-gloves lay lifeless,
bereft of the blunt, practical hands.
Desolation looked out on the garden,
frost-frozen: the crumbling corpse wall,
the raspberry leaves clamped in their little ice-shells,
waiting for their summertime rubies, those jewels of July,
and waiting for you, your deft natural touch.
Silence laid its stilling hand on quotidian objects
as I laid your life away in boxes.
I didn't hear your loneliness
when it pushed at the door, insistently.
Seroxat and Liebfraumilch kept you company.
Why didn't you persist?
What triggered the retreat back into yourself?
All through the hushed dusk of December and sleet storms of January
I lay with your loss, under spattering rain;
my winter fragmented, its ice-prism shattered,
my actions mere string-jerkings of the puppeteer Grief.
If by my grave you someday pass,
And see a stone with my name;
Spend time with me, sit in the grass,
And pray you can forgive my shame.
If I didn't pass all that was true,
Or fell beneath your portion of desire;
If I didn't do all that was right,
My heart lives in fear of its empty fire.
Then let your sorrow drown its tear
On your cheek in sadness fall;
Forget my failure, keep my memory near,
For what I was to you over all.
And if you can't reach out and bless,
Grant me compassion in forgiveness.
By Elizabeth Wesley
I will post it on each floor in the place where I live
andmaybe get downtown to do it in some stores.
High on the Normandy cliffs
Looking out over Pointe du Hoc
As cold Atlantic winds whisper out
The names of the brothers I left behind
Now only fine marble monument shadows
Dot the trenches and empty emplacements
As the final testimony of the fallen
Still ringing frightened with those desperate voices
Proclaiming both their lives and death
That they were ever here…
In the emerald hills of Collville Sur Mur
I can still hear the phantom naval shells screaming
Underneath the crying of men
Pulverized and dying in their comrades arms
All for the belief of the land from which they hail
While the roaring waves wash the still bloody sands
In and endless and rending cycle
That silent cacophony of brother and foe
Call out to me still for comfort and aid
Asking only to be remembered…
O beloved mother, o beloved sisters
departed from me, within years
of each other, to sadden my living;
I spend my days weeping...
reminiscing in my sorrow:
how we laughed together,
and faced another serene tomorrow,
knowing that sharing kindness
would bond our destinies
in ways so devoted and immense!
O beloved mother, o beloved sisters...
I let the unconsumed joy of memories
take me to those yesterdays
to thank God for our existence,
when we enjoyed the gifts He offered;
yes, even the smallest of them
were so lovely and precious!
And by watching how you faced death,
I admired how you became the bravest...
slowly letting go of what you possessed!
O beloved mother, o beloved sisters...
do you want me to continue crying,
or smile and console you with a future promise:
that soon we'll embrace one another
under the joyful eyes of our Creator?
Nothing foolish I will do to harm myself;
and wait I will 'till my end comes,
but until then my solemn prayers I'll recite
amid tombstones guarded by triumphant angels...
and bound for Heaven, I'll be smiling!
I had a wonderful day, what could have went wrong
Went to sleep feeling like a brand new man
Laying in bed, sleeping so peacefully
Two guys walked in unexpectedly
They said wake up, no hesitation
Ten bullets in my back, no explanation
Was this a dream I’m gonna wake up from
No its not, I’m a completely dead man
Why me? Answer my question
I had a family and other love ones.
Now I’m gone, but memory lives on
How about you where do you stand?
Just one more time,
just one more breath,
just one more moment to remember the past,
lull in thy memories,
breathe in thy essence,
to look upon thy face,
to know you still care,
to know what we had was special,
to be preserved in preferred memories.
Where I am going I know naught.
Floating as if in limpid water currents,
languor reaching but finding not,
solitary enraged soul longing for one more kiss,
one kiss whence naught.
Malformed monsters feast
upon the vermin ravishing mine soul,
my tender heart loathing sunset’s rays enfold,
nighttime beseech me, broken heart unfold.
Another night shine through tears,
summoned by memories a hundredfold,
putrid time consumes life;
Cruel Life Sleeps.
Sweeter than a flower special as could be
A little girl softly asleep
Kneeling in prayer singing a tune
Beautiful young one baby girl
See her face glowing
Know that she's going to a better place
Surrounded by angels
Near the pearly gates
Safely in the sacred arms
Looking up at Jesus face
Sweeter than a flower
Special as could be
A little girl softly asleep
Close your eyes right now
See her going
To a better place
Your little baby girl